The ghostly mist crept across the ground, harmless to the touch but obscuring everything in its path. For Saiyu, whose consciousness was already slipping away, the supernatural mist only added to his disorientation.
"Get lost!" he growled, swinging his staff to scatter the ghosts that came too close. Despite his severed artery, his voice still carried strength, even as his muscular frame began to waver. His vision darkened, his limbs growing heavier with each passing moment. Too much blood loss.
He needed to find the other infiltrators who had landed on the island, the ones more capable than Beyond's agent. His brief encounter with Saiyu had not bought him enough time, but that hardly mattered now. Even if Beyond's men arrived, he understood that it would make little difference. He'd seen some of Oboro's trump cards, but not all of them.
The priority is to get off this island. Someone has to know. At worst, they had to warn the others to flee and inform Beyond of Oboro's true nature.
The spirits circled around him like vultures, their mocking laughter echoing in his mind. They swirled like storm clouds, some roaring, others screaming directly into his ears. His severe injuries made every step forward a battle of wills.
A trail of blood from his neck wound marked his desperate escape route. "Get away," he gasped, weakly swinging his weapon to push back the dark green fog. His voice had grown weak, the life force draining from his body. I am dying," he realized with stark clarity.
His grip failed, the staff clattering to the ground. There was no escape from the ghostly mist that spread faster than he'd expected, covering an enormous area.
Saiyu collapsed to his knees, one hand braced against the ground while the other clutched his bleeding neck. His face was deathly pale. The situation was crystal clear: he was at the door of death.
I was a fool to come here,' he thought bitterly. The fact that Ging and Pariston considered him a threat should have been enough! Even with Beyond's orders, I could have refused. No wonder he wants to go to the Dark Continent. Such a being has no place in the human world.
Within thirty seconds, Saiyu's body hit the ground and his temperature plummeted. The spirits circled endlessly, silently watching his demise as if welcoming their newest member.
"Pariston!" The name appeared in Saiyu's fading mind. Although he served under Beyond, he had no loyalty to Pariston. Their cooperation existed only between their superiors. Within the Association, he remained independent as one of the Twelve Zodiacs, acting on his own convictions.
He could have easily allied himself with Yorkshire and the others against Pariston. But Beyond's orders were absolute.
We were all being played for fools," he realized. Pariston wanted Oboro eliminated, but he didn't want to get his own hands dirty. He'd approached Beyond, exploiting the common traits and goals between Oboro and his target. Pariston had calculated that Beyond would send Saiyu given his situation; Beyond couldn't risk direct contact or even open communication.
And Gail, even Yorkshire's machinations had fallen into Pariston's web. Whether they killed Oboro or died trying, Pariston would achieve his goals. The death of another Zodiac here would condemn Oboro as the executioner, making his position in the Association untenable.
But neither Beyond nor Pariston had understood Oboro's true abilities or his terrifying nature. The man had killed him efficiently, without witnesses, in a matter of moments.
Pariston would get his information, confirm Oboro's threat level and achieve his desired result without risking anything. Perfect calculation, all profit, no personal cost. The only victim was Saiyu himself.
I understand everything now,' Saiyu thought. But much too late.
Footsteps approached. Oboro walked casually towards his fallen form, his hands in his pockets.
"May I ask a favor?" Oboro whispered, his voice barely audible as he looked up at his executioner.
"Do not worry. I'll send him to you," Oboro replied, reading his thoughts effortlessly.
"Thank you." Surprisingly, Saiyu managed to smile.
A quick movement cut through the air. Oboro's blow separated Saiyu's head from his neck with surgical precision. A mixture of soul energy and dark mist rose from the corpse, absorbed into his being. Without expression, he stepped over the fallen Zodiac's body and continued on his way.
Pariston had earned his place on Oboro's death list, but his time hadn't come yet. He still had value. After Netero's abdication, the position of chairman would be vacant and now a Zodiac was dead.
Knowing Pariston, he would probably name Oboro as his successor. The reason was simple: the Zodiacs, led by Metal, would inevitably oppose him. Without Pariston's support, it would be difficult to secure the chairmanship of the Hunters' Association. Ging would never allow it. Though he was aware of Pariston's plans, his help was necessary to claim the position.
His death can wait," Oboro thought as he searched the island for his other targets.
Before he found Menchi and the others, he encountered an unexpected face, a muscular figure in special combat gear running at full speed. The man froze at the sight of him, instantly alert.
"Oboro?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "Our target! But why is he alone? Where is the Zodiac? Failure to cooperate means the target must die.
Raw power surged in the man's core. Even though they had recognized each other immediately, Oboro's complete disregard was disturbing. He showed no reaction, as if the man were a stone on the side of the road rather than a living threat.
Murderous intent flared as the man attacked! Spiked iron rings materialized around his massive arms, a unique conjured weapon. Oboro remained unmoved, not even glancing in his direction.
The ground exploded as the man lunged forward with terrifying speed and force. As he leapt, Oboro's hand emerged from his pocket like a drawn blade, leaving only an afterimage before returning smoothly.
The airborne body broke apart, flesh and organs scattering in a rain of blood.
One exchange. That was all.
Oboro's step never faltered, his breathing unchanged. He hadn't bothered to really look at his attacker's face. Threads of mist stretched from his form, gathering the fallen souls as he walked away across the bloody earth.